Hickory
by Jenn Perry
Summary: post-Sein Und Zeit. Scully thinks while watching Mulder sleep.


Title: Hickory  
Author: SexyPhile  
Email: sexyphile@hotmail.com  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: Sein Und Zeit, Orison  
Keywords: Implied MSR, Scully POV, ScullyAngst  
Distribution: Ask me first (I usually say yes g)  
Disclaimer: "The X-Files", Dana Scully, Fox Mulder and any other   
character you recognize belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions,   
and Fox Television.  
Summary: post-Sein Und Zeit. Scully thinks while watching Mulder   
sleep.  
  
  
You know you love someone when you can spend the night just watching   
them sleep.  
  
I don't know where I heard that phrase, but after tonight I know it   
speaks the truth. As the dawn creeps in his window, I realize it --   
I've been sitting at his desk all night, watching him sleep. He   
looks peaceful, with one arm hanging toward the floor and the other   
laying across his stomach, but I know this serene scene will be over   
soon and he will wake up. He will begin his life again, this time as  
a man whose mother has committed suicide. Every day for the rest of   
his life, he will have to come to terms with that fact -- a so-called  
preventable death that he had not been able to prevent.  
  
The guilt. I can't even begin to imagine the guilt that must be   
coursing through his body. I, of course, am not without guilt.   
Being raised a Catholic, guilt was taught right along with the Ten   
Commandments. I've had my bouts with it as much as the next guy,   
most recently about the death of Donnie Pfaster. But this guilt that  
Mulder must feel? It's unfathomable to me. This could be the thing   
that throws him over the edge that he's been so precariously perched   
on all his life. I hope I can catch him before he falls.  
  
His eyes twitch now, although I'm on sure if it's from REM sleep or   
if he's waking up. I hope it's not the latter -- he needs just a   
little more solace before facing reality. I'm not sure what to say   
to him when he does awaken. No greeting seems appropriate. 'Good   
morning' sounds hollow. 'How are you doing?' is ridiculous -- what's  
he going to say? 'I'm doing just peachy, thanks for asking.'  
  
The sofa creaks as his body changes position, turning his head to   
face me. His eyes are still closed and his lips are slightly open.   
I can hear the air move in and out of his mouth keeping time with   
his arm, rising and falling on his stomach. I hear a siren in the   
distance -- it cuts right to soul. My stomach twists in knots as my   
mind recalls his sobs. I try to stop the images and sounds from   
coming, but they flood my mind's eye, unrelenting in their power. I   
had been helpless. The only solace I could offer him was in my arms   
and my words, trying to ease his mind. While he gratefully accepted   
that, I wanted to do more. I wanted to go back to Skinner's office   
and be able to wait when Skinner told me to because the news I had   
wasn't vital. It wouldn't be earth-shattering. I wouldn't have to   
tell him that his mom was dead. I wouldn't have to come to his   
apartment and to confirm what he had wanted to deny -- his mom had   
indeed killed herself. That was the worst thing I have ever done and  
I just wanted to undo it.  
  
That scene plays over and over again in my mind, taunting me and   
pushing me closer and closer to the edge myself. Listening to him   
rationalize what he had believed to have happened to his mother broke  
my heart. I didn't want to be the one to tell him the truth. I   
desperately wanted to buy into the lie, to protect him from the   
reality. But I couldn't -- I couldn't lie to him, not even about   
this. As the words of his mother's illness tumbled out of my mouth,   
I didn't hear them. I only saw the pain and anguish that they caused   
and his face twisted from hopefulness to absolute despair. When the   
words sunk in, I wanted so badly to take them back, to fix the hole   
in his heart that I had just caused. But it was done. The only   
thing I could do was hold him while he cried. So I did. After much   
coaxing, he finally fell asleep on his couch, with me standing  
guard, hoping to keep the demons away, if only for an hour or so.  
  
The apartment is still again except for the sound of the heater   
cutting on. Its gentle hum comforts me the way his breathing does.   
I scold myself for that thought. I'm not the one in need of comfort   
-- he is. That's why I can sit here all night, watching over him. I  
pray that God will give him the strength to keep living.  
  
"Scully?"  
  
My gaze is drawn away from the window and down to his hazel eyes,   
dull with sleep and grief. "Yes?"  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
I rack my brain for something intelligent to say, a rational   
explanation for why I am sitting in his deak chair in the middle of   
the night, but none came. "Watching you sleep."  
  
He nodds slightly, as if he expected that response. "My mom used to   
do that sometimes too. After Samantha disappeared, I used to wake in  
the middle of the night to see her standing in my doorway, just   
watching." His voice is gravelly from sleep and the emotion that   
memory brought forth. He pauses and turns his head toward the   
ceiling. "You know, Scully, you're all I've got left. I have no   
family anymore. All I have is you."  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I know." His eyes close again, hoping to return to the slumber   
from whence he came.  
  
I lean back in his chair, content to watch his sleep.  
  
The End.  
  
Author's Notes: I know there will be many, many post-SUZ pieces   
dealing with this lost scene, but I felt compelled to write this one.  
I have experience with Mulder's newest trauma and I needed to write   
about it. I'm sure that I have not done justice to this ep, that   
scene or the emotions that SUZ brought to the surface, but I tried.   
The quote at the beginning comes from a recent episode of "Dawson's   
Creek". Grams says that the smell of hickory reminds her of her late  
husband and that every night he would fall asleep while he read to   
her. She spent many nights sitting by the fire, watching him sleep,   
a true test of love. It's a beautiful scene and I hope I did it   
justice. Let me know what you think: sexyphile@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/4856/X-Files/mystories.html 


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